


Some Sunny Day

by Paidendryl



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: ...or does he?, Bill! - Freeform, Dipper doesn't know Bill, Dipper has been kidnapped, Emotional Manipulation, I just needed something dark I guess, Kidnapped AU, Kidnapping, M/M, Manipulation, Smut? Idk, Stalking, Stockholm Syndrome, This is an AU, Threats of Violence, because honestly I have no idea, by who else?, depends how you see it I guess, don't really know where I'm going with this honestly, dunno how I feel about it, hahaha, probs - Freeform, tags will be added as I go, title might change, we'll see how far this goes, what this is supposed to be, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-02-27 18:38:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13254282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paidendryl/pseuds/Paidendryl
Summary: Dipper was supposed to be on a bus with his sister to visit his Two Great-Uncles.He didn't expect to wake up in a stranger's house, surrounded by nothing but trees and skies.All he wants is to go home, but the man continues to insist that he already is.





	1. Drugged

**Author's Note:**

> I'm supposed to be sleeping.

 The bus station felt a lot more crowded and it made Dipper’s insides flutter nervously as he sat beside his twin-sister, Mabel, his eyes staring cautiously at the large black screen above him. Their bus didn’t leave until twelve, and unfortunately for him and his sibling, they were stuck here for another hour.

His parents had dropped them off around nine, and stayed with them till eleven before they had to leave for a seminar back in their hometown of California. He sighed, feeling a bit of bitterness at their eagerness to hug them goodbye and leave so quickly.

“Isn’t this exciting, Dipper?” His sister chirped, absentmindedly knitting beside him. She was focused in her work, but from her relaxed posture and bright smile, he could tell her mind was traveling miles and miles away from the yarn. He sighed and leaned back in his seat, scratching at the back of his head before shrugging.

“I guess,” he yawned, “It’s been a while since we’ve seen Stan and Ford,” he added. Although, despite the boredom he expressed, he himself was excited to go see his Great-Uncles. It had been the first summer in quite a while since they’d have been able to travel back to their favorite relatives. His sister had said something, but he had been spacing out for a moment so he hardly heard her. He glanced around and smiled a little when he spotted a small café directly across from him. He could certainly use a coffee right now. He looked to his sister, who had gone silent again, and stood.

“I’m gonna get a coffee, want anything?” He asked. Mabel looked up and grinned.

“Aw, no thanks bro-bro,” She chuckled, “I’m hyped up on eight glasses of Mabel Juice, so I’m still kicking.”

Dipper nodded and shook his head, his nose scrunching a little in disgust, “I seriously don’t understand how you can drink all that pink stuff. What’s even in it?”

Mabel snorted and grinned secretively, “Wouldn’t you like to know?” She replied back with a cheeky grin, sticking out her tongue, “It’s a secret recipe! One that can only be granted to the most worthy of people!”

He snorted and gave an exaggerated sigh, “Oh forgive me for asking,” he snorted, before turning on his heel, his sister’s laughter following behind him. Though his smile was a short one as he treaded closer to the café. He looked around warily, suddenly feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He got the distinct feeling that he was being watched.

He shuddered, pulling his navy blue jacket closer to his body. He tried to look around subtly, noting that there were less and less people around as he stepped in line for a coffee. As he waited for the person in front of him to pay, he felt another presence behind him. He glanced as best as he could behind him, but could only make out a deep black coat and suit pants. He would’ve stared longer, but the lady at the counter cleared her throat to get his attention. He immediately looked forward, his cheeks red as he struggled to find his voice.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll have a small coffee,” he said, wincing when his voice cracked, “Plain please. And a powdered lemon bread,” he added. The lady gave an unimpressed look and tapped into the computer.

“That’ll be five-ninety nine,” She said. Dipper nodded and began pulling out his wallet, before the person behind him suddenly stepped forward.

“I’ll pay,” They said, and Dipper stilled at the voice. It was deep and rich, holding just the faintest of an accent he couldn’t identify. He looked up to see a tall man next him. Their skin was a dark tan, as though they spent most of their time out in the sun. His hair was a mix of strands that were a sandy yellow and light brown. But despite his face being handsome and riddled with freckles, his nose was a little pointed and his mouth curved up into a beautiful smile made of white, straight teeth. Dipper had to say it was his eyes that got him.

Two beautiful golden orbs stared back at him, swirling with an emotion that was foreign yet familiar to him. He felt his breath hitch and he hardly heard the lady tell him that his drink was ready. The man in front of him chuckled, and Dipper felt himself nearly swoon at the noise. At the thought, his cheeks began turning a vibrant red and it was then that he forced himself to look away.

“Th-thanks,” he muttered, not even getting a chance to protest as the man had already bought his drink while he was, ahem, _distracted_. He shifted in his feet nervously and took his coffee. He gave one last thank you to the man and made to add in his own amount of sugar, before he was stopped by a cautious hand grabbing his arm lightly.

“Wait,” the man said. Dipper felt his throat go dry and he turned, peering back into those eyes that tried to put him in a trance.

“Yes?” He asked, calmly. The man hesitated a moment, his eyes looking around before narrowing at something for a split second before looking away before Dipper could see what it was. His smile was back and he continued to stare at Dipper as though he were an old, long lost friend.

“I was hoping you could maybe sit with me?” The man asked, “You seem like a worthwhile fella, and well, could you perhaps indulge me for a moment?” His eyes stared at Dipper’s with a pleading look, as though they were trying to convince him to stay.

Dipper felt his gut squeeze with uncertainty. While the man was attractive-and certainly got Dipper’s attention-he still looked a little bit older than him. He was only seventeen, but the man before him looked to be in his late mid-twenties. He bit his bottom lip and glanced back towards Mabel, missing the man’s grimace, before sighing and giving a small shrug. He turned back to the stranger and gave a small nod.

“I suppose so,” he said. The man grinned like a child receiving the ultimate gift on Christmas and he turned on his heel. Dipper quirked an eyebrow and watched as he went to take a seat at an empty booth in the back. He paused a moment, it didn’t look too concealed from people. Besides, the workers were walking around close enough to the area to be able to stop the man if something were to happen. He decided to give it a shot, figuring that it would help to by some time of whatever remaining minutes were ahead for him.

He plopped a seat on the side where he was looking out into the station. His sister’s form could be seen from he was and he felt a bit more at ease. He looked back to the man in front of him. He still had yet to stop looking at him, and Dipper vaguely wondered if this was the man who was watching him from earlier.

“So…how old are you?” Dipper asked, removing the lid from his coffee cup. The man took a sip of his tea and hummed.

“Twenty-four,” he said. Dipper raised an eyebrow but said nothing. It was just like he thought, he was _way_ too old for him. Which was unfortunate, he would’ve loved to go on a date with this man. And he briefly pondered what kind of date they would plan, but he stopped his train of thought before he could get too lost in it.

“Twenty-four,” he said, “Bummer. I’m seventeen.”

The man didn’t seem too torn up about it, and Dipper briefly wondered if maybe it wasn’t only him who felt an attraction.

“Seventeen, hm?” The other smiled, “You look too wise for your age. I never would’ve guessed.” Then he glanced to Dipper’s cup and frowned.

“Do you want me to put some sugar in that for you?” he asked. Dipper blinked and looked down at his black coffee. He sighed and nodded.

“I can go do it myself,” he said, “I’ll be right back.”

The man nodded and watched as Dipper left to go fix his coffee.

Perhaps if the teen had been watching him, he would’ve noticed him pour something white on the powdered bread. But as luck would have it, Dipper didn’t see it, and so when he once more returned, he didn’t think any less of the man before him.

“So, you got a name?” The stranger asked, lifting his tea and taking a sip, his eyes still boring into Dipper’s. The teen drank his own coffee nervously and did his best to relax.

“Uh, Dipper,” he said, quickly, “A-and yours?” He glanced at his lemon bread and pulled it closer to him. The man’s eyes seemed to light up more as he took a bite of it, and he could’ve sworn he sat back a little taller, a strange glint in his eyes as he swallowed the bread in his mouth. Again, he thought nothing of it as he figured he was just imagining the weird look, and it wasn’t anything to be too alarmed about.

“The name’s Bill,” the man replied, “Bill Cipher. Pleasure to meet ya, Dipper,” he grinned, then pursed his lips, “Interesting name though, any meaning behind it?”

Dipper blushed a little and for a moment, he felt his head swim. He paused, blinking his eyes when the lights seemed to be getting brighter than usual. He bit into his bread a bit more, and did his best to remember what Bill had asked him. What had he asked him?

“S-sorry,” he said, or rather slurred. His voice sounded distant, and faint. What was happening? Bill suddenly stood up and the quick movement caused Dipper’s head to throb. As the man helped him up, he noted that their walking became faster. Bill felt tense, and the way he held Dipper was almost as though he was trying to conceal him. He opened his mouth to speak when they passed his sister’s sitting form. She seemed too engrossed in her knitting to really notice the people walking. Dipper opened his mouth, making to call out to her, but before he could get a word out, something was placed inside. He bit down, looking towards Bill and giggling happily at the sweet taste that filled his mouth.

He wasn’t quite sure what it was, but it felt like a candy of some sort.

“H-hey Biill,” he spoke after a moment, his voice sounding thick and slurred, “W-where we’goin?”

His question remained unanswered, but he got a vague sense that they were outside. He frowned, he wasn’t supposed to be outside. He had to get back to Mabel, they had a bus to catch. That made him stop altogether and he began to struggle a bit more.

“Nonono,” he tried, but his tongue felt heavy, “I’m not’spose to be’ere.”

Bill ignored him, instead he adjusted his grip against his waist and pulled him closer.

“I got’go back,” Dipper persisted, “Mabel’s waitin’.”

“Shh,” Bill whispered close to his ear, tightening his grip ever so slightly, “Don’t worry, we’re almost there.”

Dipper wanted to ask what he meant by that exactly, but once again, another candy was popped into his mouth, although this time he was able to make out the small round shape of it, and it was making his mind feel foggier and hazier than normal. He felt his body starting to panic briefly, but he had no control of it whatsoever, it was as if he was a doll. Perhaps Bill was actually taking him to Mabel but he was too dizzy to know it to realize it. Maybe that’s why the walk felt longer.

“Hey Bill,” he heard himself call out, “I don’feel so good,” he groaned. They paused behind a dark alleyway, and he caught Bill looking around warily once again, “What’smatter? We bein’followed?” he snickered, suddenly feeling way too happy for no reason. Bill looked at him and chuckled.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he said, “We’re being followed, so we gotta hide.”

Dipper hardly noticed when he had stepped closer to the man, but he knew his hands were touching all over him. He felt Bill tug at his shirt and he giggled, helping the man with removing it.

“Whatare we doin’?” He asked, his vision swimming. He felt rather than saw as Bill reached behind to somewhere between the large dumpsters near them and pulled out a grey backpack. Dipper watched as best as he could as the man pulled out some clothes and a wig. He snorted as Bill carried the items over and instructed for him to put them on. Not quite thinking at the moment, and feeling as though this was a fun game of sorts, Dipper obliged and removed the clothes he had on currently and began replacing it with what felt like a dress. Man, Mabel was going to be so _shocked_. He giggled again and turned towards Bill. The man himself was changing his clothes as well and stuffing them back into his bag.

“Bill, this is girl clothes,” the teen said. Bill nodded and took the dress in his hands, beginning to help the dazed teen.

“I know, but this how we’re going to hide,” he crooned, raising a hand to caress Dipper’s cheek, “We’re hiding remember?”

Dipper nodded like a child and put the long dress on him. Then he felt the wig go on top of his head and before he knew it, they were walking again.

“A-are we going to surprise my sister?” He hummed, leaning against the man as his legs started to feel wobbly. Bill gave no response, but Dipper had already forgotten what he had said.

The rest of the world began to pass by as a blur, especially after another candy was placed into his mouth. His consciousness was starting to wane, and he felt himself beginning to stumble and trip.

When he asked where they were going for what felt like the hundredth time, he was sitting down in a seat next to Bill. He hardly remembered entering a building, but then a lady came by and stared at him with concern. Bill immediately chuckled and patted his thigh. Dipper was too out of it to say anything and instead curled closer to him, his face scrunching up from the discomfort of the many sounds pounding in his ears.

“Too much to drink,” the older man said to the woman. The lady gave a knowing nod and smiled, offering to bring some water before patting Bill’s shoulder.

“Enjoy your flight!” She said, beginning to walk away. Dipper frowned. Flight? He was on a plane? But why? Where was Mabel? Was she here too? Did Bill put them on a plane? He wasn’t able to ask anything because before he even realized it, he had passed out again.

In one of his bouts of consciousness, he briefly felt a rumble beneath his lying form. There was a faint smell of cigarettes, cologne, and an air freshener.

A car, he thought in his hazy state, but he made no move to get up, his body feeling too tired to do anything.

And when he opened his eyes for a split second, he saw moving stars through a window.


	2. Awake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper finally wakes up.

When Dipper awoke, gone were the stars he saw overhead and gone were the muffled noises of air whipping loudly against the moving vehicle. Instead, he was met with a horrible splitting headache that tore at his brain and a rolling sickness twisting in his stomach. He felt disoriented and dizzy, his eyes blinking as he tried to adjust his bleary vision to the room he was currently in.

“Mabel?” he groaned, reaching a hand up to his head, or at least that's what he had been hoping to do-except, for some reason his hand seemed to be caught against something. He furrowed his eyebrows and pulled again at his hand, he even tried using his other hand but again, the same force kept them from going too far. He scrunched his nose and jerked again, feeling panic beginning to bloom.

“H-hey,” he said, his former exhaustion being turned to confusion, “Mabel? Grunkle Stan? Ford!” he grunted as he began pulling both hands. He tried lifting himself up despite how weak his arms felt, but the most that got him was a wave of dizziness and the need to fight back the nausea that was slowly but surely making itself known. He began breathing heavily, doing his best to pull himself closer to the headboard where he could see that he was fucking _handcuffed_ to the two pillars on either side of it.

His breath stopped short and his body protested at the strength he had used, but he could recall small tidbits of what had happened. Brief flashes of him and his sister at the bus station where his parents had dropped him off, he remembered Mabel knitting as he went to get coffee and a voice speaking to him. He remembered a handsome face and then going to put some sugar in his coffee and then biting into his lemon bread where-

“ _Don't worry, Dipper. You'll be safe soon._ ”

He shuddered, recalling that sweet sounding voice that had whispered in his ear while his world was spinning and changing. He smacked his lips together and could taste the briefest hints of what tasted like a familiar sweet candy he used to eat.

“Oh no,” he swallowed, “No, no... _no_. Mabel!? Grunkle Stan?! C-C’mon guys! This isn't a funny joke!” he shouted loud, wishing-hoping, _fucking praying_ \- that at any moment his family would jump out and apologize for the horrible joke they played. But no one had, and Dipper knew somewhere deep in him that it wouldn't happen because the world around him became clear and the room he was in was most definitely not the attic of his Great Uncles’ home. He felt his eyes become hot and blurry with tears and he fought desperately against his bonds.

“No, _please_ no!” he begged, tugging and tugging. His wrists were hurting and his stomach was becoming increasingly upset with each harsh turn and jerk Dipper made, but he was determined. Determined to get out of whatever hell hole he was being held in.

“Let go! Let me _go_! Please,” he nearly sobbed as he flopped back against the headrest, feeling exhaustion creeping up on him at his wasted efforts. He knew there was no way to get out of the handcuffs he was in, he didn't have anything to use to break the lock with and not that he could anyways, his hands were _both_ locked. He glared at the cuffs through teary eyes and sniffled, telepathically willing them to let him go. But of course he had no such power, and regardless of how ridiculous the notion was, he was desperate.

He stared at his captive hands and sighed dejectedly. The cuffs weren't on terribly tight, he had a bit of wiggle room because of how thin and slender his wrist and hands were. He thought briefly to a video he had seen a while back of these guys who had staged a kidnapping for themselves. One of them, he recalled, had small wrists and hands like him and just from a bit of sweat and wiggling, he was able to come free by sheer luck.

Dipper wondered if that luck was willing to help him out now.

Not giving up on escape, he proceeded to wriggle his left hand, twisting it and gently pulling to ease it out of the cuff. To his astonishment, it worked. And even though his wrist was a horrible red and probably going to bruise, he figured he could worry about it later as he set to work to freeing his other hand. Once out, he scrambled off, landing ungracefully on the floor with his limbs sprawled out. He sucked in a deep, slow breath as his vision swayed and he held his twisting stomach. He would not throw up.

And only once he got his queasiness to go down, he began forming a list of what he should do now.

First get out, find out where he was, and then call the authorities. And perhaps if he had time in between, a small break to hurl whatever was currently inside him because _oh boy did it make him sick_. He groaned as he turned himself to settle on his hands and knees, geez he did not feel good. Taking one step at a time, he eased himself up off the floor, keeping his movements slow so as to not throw off his balance and upset his sensitive stomach.

Once he was standing, he looked over himself. Though he was confused by the long sky blue dress he was currently wearing, he ignored it and was just grateful that he awoke in clothes and not nudity. He made to walk to the door, but stopped again and felt himself pale before he hoisted up the bottom half of his dress and looked at himself. He sighed with relief at the familiar boxer shorts he had on and relaxed a little. He was okay…or well, as _okay_ as one could get in situations like these.

Figuring he was good so far, he walked to the door and was greatly relieved to find that it was unlocked. Whoever had kidnapped him was obviously expecting him to remain stuck in his cuffs till they got back. But, no one should ever doubt just how much of a sweating problem Dipper had-even if he was disgusted by it, though he was most grateful for it in this moment, so…kudos uncontrollable body glands.

He made his way out of his room softly and quietly, he glanced around a bit and stayed close to the walls in case he heard another pair of footsteps. But as Dipper made his way down the hallway, he felt as though the house was deserted. Had someone just randomly taken him and dumped him in a house?

He noted there were no picture frames on the beige walls, and if there were, they were blank. He rounded the hallway corner and saw that he was in an open space. It was an entryway to what must've been the living room. Whoever lived here enjoyed the rustic, posh decoram. There was a large black leather couch in the center, adjacent to it was a huge cabinet shelf-like thing that had books filling the shelves from top to bottom. There was a black and goldish rug on the floor under a glass coffee table.

Dipper tried not to look too much around, and instead hoped that maybe he'd find a phone here instead. After all, the house was empty and if he could alert the authorities before his captor came back-which Dipper didn't want to give the benefit of the doubt that'd it'd be hours before then. So, moving on, he came into the kitchen. It was spacious, surprisingly, and had that same rustic design to it as the living room did. He looked towards the stone topped counters and nearly wept with relief as he came across a phone.

He ran to it like it was the greatest thing in the world and grabbed it. Not sparing a glance to the screen, he dialed 9-1-1 and waited. And waited. And waited.

And, oh yeah, waited.

He furrowed his eyebrows, face twisted with frustration as he didn't even hear the dialing tone of it. He pulled it back and looked at the screen to see that the fucking thing wasn't even _working_! He growled, slamming it back down onto the receiver that he could now see had its wire cut and feeling his tears return. He barely heard the door open and footsteps enter the room.

“Pine Tree?” a very familiar voice asked. Dipper froze, slowly rising from his hunched over position on the counter and turned his head slowly.

There, dressed in a modest white button up shirt with a muted golden short sleeved sweater over it, followed with a fricking bow tie around his neck and black khakis, was none other than the stranger, Bill, that he had met at the bus station.

Dipper did the one thing his body could only think to do in this situation.

He threw up.

  
\- - -

  
The initial shock of what he had done, didn't settle until after he had seen the grossed out and concerned expression of Bill. He stepped weakly away from the mess and fell back against the counter, the world becoming dizzy again.

Bill made a noise of disdain before moving forward towards Dipper, avoiding his stomach contents that were now on the floor. Dipper barely had time to register the touch of Bill’s hands on face as he began looking over him. He weakly pushed at him.

“Don't touch me,” he managed, squirming out of his touch and flopping against another counter opposite of his captor. Bill frowned.

“We need to get you hydrated,” he said, moving again towards Dipper and reaching past him towards the cabinet behind him. He opened it to pull out a clear glass and Dipper ignored the soft smell of his cologne, doing his best to not breathe it in otherwise his stomach would have him vomiting again.

He made no move as Bill walked away from him as quickly as he had approached and opened the fridge. He closed his eyes, absentmindedly listening to the pouring of a beverage.

“Here,” came the soft alert of Bill’s voice. Dipper opened his eyes and tiredly met the gaze of him before looking down at the clear drink in front of him. He looked at it suspiciously and Bill smiled a bit, “I didn't drug it, promise,” he assured him, “That wouldn't be wise to do with the current ones that your body had ingested still in your system.”

Dipper didn't say anything, nor did he make to grab at the water despite how dry his throat suddenly felt. Instead, in a fit of defiance, he raised a hand and slammed it hard against the glass, knocking it out of Bill’s waiting hand and watching as it crashed loudly to the floor, glass and water flying everywhere. Bill stayed staring in surprise at the broken glass before sighing.

  
“A simple “ _no thank you_ ” would have sufficed,” he chastised gently, bending down to pick up the pieces, “But I understand it's a lot for you, so this is to be expected. Honestly, I should've been smart enough to remember this and given you a plastic one instead.” he mused, a small smile on his face and a light humorous tone to his voice, as though this was just a small slip up and nothing more than like, oh, say…a _kidnapping_!

Dipper stared down at Bill incredulous, a mixture of angered confusion written across his face. What the _hell_ was he talking about?

“The cup, Pine Tree,” Bill replied, and Dipper had to take a second to realize he had said that out loud.

“What am I doing here?” he asked, glaring down at Bill's bent over figure.

“You know, I'm surprised you got out,” Bill said, ignoring his question, “I thought those cuffs were on tight, but you must be a slippery little thing, hm?” he smiled, “I'm impressed.”

“I could give two shits about how impressed you are. Why am I here?” he said, louder, his voice harsher. Bill hummed softly as he picked up the pieces he could find before carrying them over to the garbage can. He dumped the glass in there and turned, frowning with worry at Dipper.

“There's a few more big scattered pieces of glass, so be careful where you step. After I pick them up, I just gotta clean the water and then your vomit,” he said, _like it was no big deal_ , “Since you're up and free, why don't you go to the bathroom and freshen up a bit? I'm sure you must feeling gross. There's some clothes in your drawers that you can grab from the room you woke up in. I should have dinner ready by the time you’re done,” he smiled, and Dipper had to take a moment to stare at Bill with wide eyes because what the fuck kind of kidnapper just let their victim walk around free like that?

Dismissing the thought and filing it for later to think about, Dipper curled his hand into a fist, anger flaring back to life. He raised his hand, pulling it back and delivered a strong left hook to Bill's perfect face, successfully knocking the other back and barely giving a glance as Bill cupped his cheek and staggered back. He pushed forward, feeling a brief stinging pain in his foot as he ran for the door.

“Pine Tree!” he heard Bill call after him, but Dipper only flipped him off as he ran for the front of the house, his adrenaline kicking in to make up for the lack of energy he felt.

Bill must've been a big time rookie kidnapper if he was that easy to beat, and Dipper was elated to see that he would be getting out of this situation a lot quicker than he thought. But unfortunately for him, he counted his chickens too soon before they hatched and while he had seen that the front door was almost within his reach, he was suddenly yanked backwards by his waist and pulled back against a firm chest and trapped in strong arms. He cried out, struggling against Bill and trying to fight back.

“Pine Tree,” Bill grunted, walking him away from the front door and down a hallway that was sure to lead him back to the room he woke up in, “Pine Tree stop!”

“No!” Dipper shouted, “No no! Let me go! Please please! I want to go home, let me go home!”

“You _are_ home!” Bill shouted as he threw him down onto the hard tile floor. Dipper groaned as he landed harshly on his side, head banging briefly against the floor. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and gritted his teeth. When he opened his eyes he looked around to see he was in fact in a bathroom, Bill was currently no where in sight. Struggling up to his feet and fighting the dizziness that had returned, he rushed to the bathroom entryway and made to exit, but Bill was back in his space before he knew it and Dipper stumbled back as though he'd been burned, ducking behind the sink, as if that would keep him safe from Bill’s looming presence.

“I've got towels and a first aid kit,” he said, pointing down at Dipper’s feet, “You stepped in some glass, your foot’s bleeding.”

Dipper looked down and true to his word, there were bloody footprints on the creme tile. He let out a shaky breath. Stepping back as Bill stepped closer.

“Stay away,” he said, and Bill stopped, watching him as though he were a trapped animal. And Dipper felt that way. He felt cornered, and stuck and oh hell he couldn't breathe!

“Deep breaths, Dipper,” Bill said quietly, and Dipper listened despite how horrible this situation was. Breathing deeply until he felt slightly normalish and could at least see only one of Bill. He still hadn't moved, but he had placed the towels and first-aid on the floor near him. He held his hands up, “Here,” he said, voice still soft, “I'll let you do it yourself.” he began to move again and Dipper tensed, but Bill’s direction was towards the bathtub, and he watched as he turned on the water, listening to the steady beat of the rushing liquid.

“Please,” Dipper whispered, tears returning, “Let me go. I won't tell, I promise. Just let me go home.” he closed his eyes and turned his head away from the other as Bill turned to look at him.

“I already told you, Pine Tree,” Bill sighed, “You are home.”

Dipper heard him shuffling towards the door, and squeezed his eyes tighter.

“I'll let you clean and stuff. Dinner will be in twenty minutes.”

And then the door shut.

The moment it did, Dipper fell to the floor, his strength failing him. He hugged his knees close to his chest and rocked himself gently as he cried, his shoulders shaking from the force behind his sobs.

Why? Why him? Why now? He should've just stayed near Mabel, why did he have to sit with Bill? Why didn't anyone notice? Why didn't _he_ notice? He was such an idiot!

He hugged himself tightly, desperately wishing his sister was here and that he was safe with her and his Grunkles. He wondered what they were doing right now. Surely she had to know he was gone, right? Had she boarded the bus thinking he'd follow behind her? Did she notice him talking to Bill? Did she see him leave? He thought no, she was engrossed in her knitting, and if there's one thing he knew about his sister, was that she could get sucked into her knitting pretty easily, undistracted by the world around her. But even then…how long was he missing for? Were they even looking for him?

He sniffled, wiping at his eyes. He looked around, the bathroom was a standard one. There was a sink with a circular mirror hanging above it, a toilet, and a shower. He glanced down at his feet, the pain registering as he unbent his leg to examine his bleeding foot. He gently touched it and hissed as a small flash of pain spiked up. There must've been some glass stuck in it. Not that he cared really. The pain was a wonderful distraction to this horrible situation. He wondered how he would even get out of this. Bill was stronger than he appeared, and even though he seemed to trust Dipper to willingly stay, just the fact that he had managed to kidnap him without alerting anyone proved that he was _a lot_ smarter too.

He felt his anxiety bump up just a little more, and his thoughts seemed to be becoming a little louder than normal. He stood up shakily, mindful of his still injured foot he had yet to fix, but it wasn't like he cared. _Why_ should he care? He walked over to the door, opening it a little and looking down the hallway. He could hear Bill singing a song, his voice a little hard to hear.

“ _Keep smiling through…just like you always do...'Til the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away…_ ”

He closed the door again, clicking the lock this time, and deciding to ignore just how inviting Bill's singing voice was. He then turned and leaned his back against the door, gently easing himself back down to the floor. He vaguely remembered the shower going on in the background. He breathed deeply, for some reason he was feeling tired and weaker than before. It was probably just his adrenaline wearing off, he thought to himself. He glanced down at his foot, had it been bleeding that heavily earlier? He couldn't recall, but as he touched the gash he could've sworn the shard of glass was a lot deeper inside him than before. He gritted his teeth as he pulled at it, hoping to remove it so it wouldn't burrow any deeper into his foot.

He bit back a pained yelp as he jerked it out, and bringing it up to examine the bloody piece. It wasn't as big as he thought, in fact it was small and it looked to be like it was a section of the bottom part of the cup, but there was still enough of jagged glass on it to make a nice deep wound on his foot. He sighed, knowing that he should probably bandage his freely bleeding foot now. But honestly? He was just too fucking tired. He sighed, resting his head back against the door. His vision was swaying a little. He glanced down at the glass resting in his palm and squeezed his hand around it a little too tightly, and he could feel the glass digging in past his skin. He hissed, it hurt, but not a lot and he could tell that his senses were dulling.

Hey, maybe he could pretend to die and then Bill would _have_ to take him to the hospital and then he could be returned back to his family, right? Then Bill would be arrested and he'd be nothing but a bad dream?

Or maybe he was dreaming?

There was a knock faintly on the door behind him. Oh, where was he again?

“Pine Tree?” a voice called out, “Pine Tree are you done?”

Pine Tree? Who was Pine Tree? Was that him? No…it was…

“Dipper?!” the voice sounded slightly more panicked, and the knocking became a hard thud and his body moved a bit along with the door. He looked down at the floor, vision doubling. Oh whoah, that was a lot of blood. How had he not noticed he was bleeding a lot?

The door jerked again, and this time his body flopped to the floor as well. When had he gotten so weak?

Mabel? Mabel?

Where was she?

Grunkle Stan?

Grunkle Ford?

There was a louder voice suddenly breaking through and he could hear a loud crack. He blinked, vision fading in and out.

There were hands on him, then a pulling.

“Oh god, oh no,” the person said, pulling him onto their lap, “ _No_ , no, no. Damn it! Goshdamnit, Dipper!”

He said nothing as he felt himself growing weaker. He didn't remember what he said, but he knew he said something. The figure above him stiffened a bit but then they were shifting.

“You're not going to die,” they said, “I _won't_ let you die.”

He said something else, but he was already leaving. His vision went dark and then everything was silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise surprise! This fic isn't dead yet!
> 
> Thoughts? What do you think is going to happen now? Comments?
> 
> By popular demand, I _finally_ got the second chapter posted! I have to admit, I was taken aback by just how many people wanted me to update it. Honestly I wrote this story on a whim, so I'm actually really happy that you guys loved it so much! Your comments really made me happy and definitely played a huge role in getting my brain to whip something up! So thank you, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!
> 
> Also, I'm on a vacation trip right now, and I forgot my laptop at home, so I wrote this on my mobile and I apologize if there are any errors! I proofread as much as I could, but I am only human and sometimes I don't catch everything. So please excuse me for it, haha!
> 
> Well, until next time! Hopefully I can come up with a consistent updating schedule on my stories, I should probably work on one.
> 
> Thank you for your patience friends!!
> 
>  
> 
>  **Your comments mean a lot to me, they really do, so please feel free to leave me one! I love hearing your thoughts, ideas, and opinions!  
> **  
>     
> ✧ ─=≡Σ((( つ•̀ω•́)つ
> 
>    
>  **Talk to me on Tumblr @paidenzilla or look for me on Instagram @paidendryl  
> **
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
>  
> 
> **Apologies for any grammar errors!!**
> 
>  
> 
> **Please leave a comment or a critique (if ya want!)**
> 
>  
> 
> P.s that _was_ a Try Guys reference ;)

**Author's Note:**

> hooo boi
> 
> Comments? Thoughts? Opinions?
> 
> let's see where we go, aye?
> 
> As always:
> 
>    
>  **Your comments mean a lot to me, they really do, so please feel free to leave me one! I love hearing your thoughts, ideas, and opinions!**
> 
>    
>  **✧ ─=≡Σ((( つ•̀ω•́)つ**
> 
>  
> 
> **You can catch me on Tumblr @paidenzilla**
> 
>    
>  **Thanks for reading!**
> 
>    
>  **Apologies for any grammar errors!!**
> 
> **Please leave a comment or a critique (if ya want!)**


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